


Earning A Bat’s Trust

by dippkip



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous Universe, Basically, Fluff, M/M, Most of this is really just Clark thinking about Bruce, but nothing graphic at all, just two grown men being adorable and in love, morning after schmoop, so imagine any version of the two you please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7830808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dippkip/pseuds/dippkip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something different about the way Bruce is sleeping today, but Clark can’t quite decide what that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earning A Bat’s Trust

It wasn’t like this was the first time Clark had seen Bruce sleep.

Far from it, really. When the League was on extended missions or stranded on a distant planet, Bruce would take quick naps where he could. He knew better than most that it was easy to make stupid mistakes if you weren’t properly rested.

So no, seeing Bruce asleep wasn’t exactly new.

But this was…different. When Bruce was napping during a mission, his body was still on high alert. His muscles would only marginally relax, and he would snap awake at the slightest sign of trouble. All deeply ingrained habits from his rigorous training, Clark supposed.

But this was something else altogether. Clark rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow so he could let his eyes take in every precious detail.

Bruce was sprawled out on his stomach, with most of his face buried in the pillow. His hair was sticking up in angry tufts, hinting at some restlessness during the course of the night, but now his slumber smoothed the usually harsh lines of his face, wiping away all traces of the pain and suffering that plagued him. His breathing was soft and even, matching the slow crawl of his heartbeat. Clark didn’t think he’d ever seen Bruce look this content. He smiled softly and reached out to gently trace the man’s cheek with his fingertips, whispering along Bruce’s skin in the muted morning light.

He froze for a moment when Bruce grumbled, but instead of waking up, he grabbed a handful of the sheets and pulled them closer, curling himself up into a cocoon of Egyptian cotton. Clark could only see his head from the eyes up. The Kryptonian could feel his face break out in what had to be a completely besotted, embarrassing smile, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care much.

He began running his fingers through the mess of raven locks on Bruce’s head, trying to pin down why this was so different. Bruce was certainly sleeping much more deeply than he would mid-mission, obviously, but there was something more to it. It was…

Trust.

That was it. Bruce was always vigilant because he only knew how to look out for himself – didn’t understand how to _really_ let someone have his back. He couldn’t let anyone in, couldn’t allow himself to get too friendly, too attached. He had teammates and allies whom he looked out for, but anything beyond that and a relationship became a liability.

Clark realized that, right now, Bruce was giving him the ultimate gesture of trust. Bruce was sleeping soundly enough that Clark could go snooping through the house, could get into the cave and steal critical information or evidence, or even attack Bruce. But Bruce _trusted_ him enough to not do any of those things (not that Clark ever would, goodness, but the fact the _Bruce_ believed that was what made this so important).

Well, given what they had been doing last night – Clark flushed a bit at the thought – he’d certainly _hope_ Bruce trusted him, but somehow, after all these years, all the words and gestures exchanged, nothing made Clark feel closer to Bruce than watching him curl tighter and pull the sheets higher in a futile bid to ward off the encroaching sunlight.

He smiled again and leaned over Bruce to press a gentle kiss to his head, whispering into his hair, “C’mon B, it’s almost 8. You promised Dick you’d meet him for brunch today. It’s time to get up.”

His encouragement was met only with more incoherent grumbling and further burrowing into the sheets. He sighed, but it was as fond as it was exasperated. He slid his hand from Bruce’s hair to trail down his back, rubbing a soothing circuit along his spine.

“If you’re late, he’s going to be crushed. He hasn’t seen you in over a week, Bruce.”

Silence.

“And he’ll ask _why_ you were late. Unless you’re ready to have that discussion with him.”

A full-body jolt. Mission accomplished.

Clark caught a quiet “None of his business anyways…”, but Bruce reluctantly began to emerge, brows furrowed over bleary blue eyes. After a moment, they focused on Clark’s face, as though only just remembering who was in bed with him, and he gave Clark a small, almost shy grin.

“Good morning sunshine,” Clark teased, feeling his own grin widen.

“Good morning,” Bruce replied, leaning forward to give Clark a quick peck on the lips, then huffing a quiet laugh when an unsatisfied Kryptonian pouted and hauled him closer for a proper kiss. They stayed like that for a while, holding each other and exchanging lazy kisses before Bruce finally pulled away, smiling when Clark tried to chase his lips.

“I thought the object of this exercise was to get me _out_ of bed. You aren’t doing a very good job.”

“You finally woke up when I asked you to – I’m trying to use positive reinforcement here.”

Bruce smirked, “Does that mean I get another kiss when I sit up?”

“And one when you get out of bed, and one for brushing your teeth, another for picking out your clothes…”

“Well then, I guess I better get started,” Bruce replied coyly. Despite his words, he didn’t move an inch, just reaching out to cup Clark’s face in his hand. His face softened, and Clark could see all that trust etched into the curve of his lips, the sweep of his brow, the tenderness in his eyes.

It took his breath away, only now realizing the sheer depth of it, and right then, Clark silently promised himself that no force in this universe or any other would keep him from this wonderful, frustrating man in his arms. Nothing would take this face, this trust, away from them. He leaned forward and captured Bruce’s lips in one last lingering kiss, groaning softly when the billionaire deepened it.

No, Clark would never betray his trust, and swore he’d never take such a precious gift for granted.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not dead! This is my first foray into writing for these two, so let me know what you thought! All I know is there isn't nearly enough superbat fic on this website, and that can't stand. "Be the change you want to see in the world," right? I don't think they were referring to gay fanfiction specifically, but hey, still applies.


End file.
